


The Awakening

by amyfortuna



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Consensual Underage Sex, Feanorian OT8, Felching, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Gangbang, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Parent/Child Incest, Sibling Incest, Sloppy Seconds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-16 15:18:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9277745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: Curufinwë gets everything he's been longing for.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [uumuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uumuu/gifts).



Curufinwë had always known these important truths: the relationship between his father and his older brothers was a very special one that went well beyond what other families considered normal or proper; that this gave them great joy despite it never being discussed openly; that if he was patient and bided his time until he came of age, he too would be taken into that relationship in due course. 

But Curufinwë Atarinkë, son of Curufinwë Fëanáro, was not patient, and never could abide to bide his time, not when there was joy to be had or curiosity to be satisfied, when the same longing that had clearly overcome each of his older brothers descended in its time upon him, some five years shy of his coming of age, at the very age his father had been when he married. The longing grew and grew until he could hardly bear it. He began to cling to his father again like he had not since early childhood, following him about for the sheer pleasure of watching him move or hearing him speak. 

Every touch, every compliment, spurred him on. His work, whether that was smith-craft, the study of linguistics, or the art of public speaking, began to outstrip all his agemates, and then to reach for the dizzying heights of his own brothers. 

Of them, Carnistir was the easiest to supersede -- he had some skill at the forge, as had all the sons of Fëanáro, but loved neither language nor diplomacy. Turcafinwë's fame in the hunt and his love of the wild lands beyond the cities of Valinor meant that he had largely been given the freedom to develop himself in areas Fëanáro did not know. Furthermore, he was Curufinwë's favourite brother, and out of respect for that, Curufinwë did not venture to excel in fields where he knew his beloved Turco reigned supreme. 

Maitimo, his father's representative in the hustle and bustle of Tirion, the prince-in-waiting, the caretaker of his brothers, was deep in studies that Curufinwë knew would take much more time than he had already lived to master. Though he loved Maitimo nearly as much as he loved their father, he could not stand the dull round of politics, the boredom of trade negotiations, the flattery and insincerity, any more than Fëanáro himself could. He left Tirion to his eldest brother. 

His natural talents, in fact, lined up far more with Macalaurë's, though Cáno had a skill for music that Curufinwë knew he could not equal. When he wasn't following Fëanáro about the forge like a young shadow, he sat with Macalaurë, learning all he could of the history and language of their people -- for both, of course, were wrapped up together, from the very first words any Elf had spoken, to the speeches their grandfather had given his people in Cuiviénen, to the newest loan-words adopted from the Teleri and the Vanyar. 

And at night, in his lonely bed, he wrapped his arms around a pillow and dreamed of the day he would never be alone again. Dreamed too, of what his father and brothers might be doing together as the nights wore on, silver fading into gold. 

Did Fëanáro kiss each of them with heated passion? Embrace them, whisper soft words of love and desire in their ears, slide his hands across the expanses of their bodies, touch them in the same way he touched the beautiful gems he created? Did he make them cry out in abandoned, ecstatic, joy? If he listened hard, Curufinwë sometimes fancied he might be able to hear Maitimo’s shout of delight, Macalaurë’s soft moans, Turcafinwë's roar, Carnistir’s rough bellow, and echoed those sounds, allowing breathless gasps to escape his lips as he stroked himself in the silvery darkness. 

Curufinwë once, in Maitimo's study long ago, had come upon Fëanáro and Maitimo locked in an embrace, blind and deaf to all else, Maitimo's mouth on Fëanáro's, devouring each other like the world was going to end. Only after they broke apart, flushed and panting, did Fëanáro notice Curufinwë, and when he bent to lift him up into his arms, Curufinwë could feel Fëanáro's heart beating faster than usual, and the bulge under his clothes that signified an erection. Maybe it had begun then, his desire, for Curufinwë had unconsciously pressed close against Fëanáro, seeking out the source of the need that spiralled through his body. 

Curufinwë was by no means ignorant. Each of his brothers and both his parents had discussed what sex was with him, many times. He simply lacked practical experience. He'd kissed a few people -- both men and women -- but never found that his desires led him to do anything further with any of those people. The only person he had ever asked for more from was Turcafinwë, who had smiled, kissed him warmly with a gentle brush of his tongue over Curufinwë's lips, and whispered, "In time, Curvo. When you're ready." 

Tonight was just like every other night. As the youngest, he went off to bed first, though he was near as tall as Macalaurë, and fully as strong as Carnistir. At dinner, he'd caught a glimpse of a sly smile playing around the corners of Maitimo's mouth, and the sight of it had sparked off heat inside him. He lay naked on the cool sheets, wrapped a hand around his already-hard cock, and pulled at himself slowly, dreaming of kissing that smile off Maitimo's face, turning him wild and wanting. 

He did not hear the door open, caught up as he was in breathless fantasies and dreams. 

The presence of another in the darkness of his bedroom should have been startling or frightening, but almost at the same time as he jerked his eyes open in surprise, he knew who it was. His father would never harm him or hurt him, so he let his hand fall away from his cock, a dreamy smile dawning over his face, as Fëanáro sat down on the bed next to him. 

"Beloved," he whispered, his voice rich with desire, and Curufinwë knew the time had come at last. A small noise of desperate want escaped him and he tilted his face upwards in longing. 

Fëanáro's mouth met his. 

This kiss from his father, more so than any kiss he had been given before, was like staring directly at the Two Trees in all their splendour, like standing in a downpour laughing with upraised arms to the sky, like diving into a deep blue lake with no thought for what lay within or where he might emerge. It was all-consuming, encompassing everything. 

He emerged from it with his arms around Fëanáro's neck. His father was holding him close against his bared chest, and he was warm, his heart beating fast, the scent of him tantalising Curufinwë, confusing his senses with love and desire. Overcome, he lay his head down against his father's shoulder, pressing his nose to the side of his throat, laying his lips to the pulse that throbbed there. 

"I would explain it to you in full, my beloved, but I think you already understand," Fëanáro said, a hint of laughter in his voice. "But here it is nevertheless: I offer you, and your brothers offer you, our love in all ways, beyond that of family or friendship. You know and bask in our love through kinship, and through the joy of our minds in unity, and now we will give you, if you desire it, the unity of our bodies as well."

"I desire it," Curufinwë stated, looking up, trembling all over with suppressed longing and need. "I have tried to wait -- I have long suspected this and envied it -- and now I can wait no longer." He took a deep breath, and Fëanáro pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Thank you for coming to me now, for not prolonging my impatience. I know it is too soon, I am too young, but I do not want to wait another moment." Fëanáro smiled down at him, and Curufinwë sat up, throwing off the light blanket that covered his body. "I am yours in body as I am in mind and by right of kinship. Take me, claim me, have me, teach me, awaken me, and I ask the same of my brothers. I am yours, now and for all time." 

Fëanáro kissed him again, three times, once on the forehead, once on either cheek. "The time has come. Welcome, beloved." He slid the cover off the lamp beside Curfinwë's bed, illuminating the room in cool blue light, which was entrancing mingled with the silver light coming in through the windows, then stood up and walked over to the door, holding a brief consultation with someone just outside it. Maitimo peered through and grinned at Curufinwë. He held up a small vial of oil in his hand, and as he swept into the room, laughed for very joy. 

"My sweet Curufinwë, at last!" Maitimo shrugged his light robe off, then, naked, bent and wrapped Curufinwë in his arms, giving him first the sort of all-encompassing hug that Curufinwë loved best, and then a sloppy passionate kiss, full of affection. Turcafinwë was the only one of his brothers who had ever kissed Curufinwë with tongue before, and Curufinwë found Maitimo's tongue in his mouth to be an unanticipated delight that got him rock-hard instantly. Maitimo was excellent at kissing, rough and wanting, and Curufinwë thrust his hips against the air, seeking purchase, and found it, in Fëanáro's hands. 

Fëanáro took hold of his cock as Maitimo continued to kiss him, and stroked him with intent, in much the same way that Curufinwë often touched himself, but the feel of it was completely different when it was his father stroking him like that, with firm, forge-callused, hands pulling smoothly over his cock in a regular rhythm, now and then reaching down to play over his balls very lightly, in what might have been ticklish had Curufinwë not been so aroused he could scarcely draw breath. 

Maitimo pulled away from him a little, bright eyes shining at him. "Come for us, Curvo," he whispered. "Come for us, this first time, and then, after a while, again and again until we've worn you out. The others are waiting, but this first time is just for the three of us."

Curufinwë arched into his father's hands and obeyed his brother, surrendering to the bliss that wiped all sight from his eyes and thought from his mind. White jets of seed spattered over Fëanáro's hands, and when Curufinwë opened his eyes again, Maitimo was cleaning them with his tongue, pausing now and again to exchange wet kisses with his father. 

"Back with us?" Fëanáro asked Curufinwë, an indulgent smile on his face. 

"Ready for more?" Maitimo added. 

"Yes," Curufinwë answered to both questions, and bolder now, carried on. "I want you to fuck me, both of you, and then Cáno, Turco, and Moryo too. I want all of you inside me before the night is through." 

Maitimo exchanged a significant glance with Fëanáro. "I told you he would be demanding," he said, laughing. "Which of us first?" He turned back to Curufinwë. 

"Father, please," Curufinwë said simply, and Fëanáro smiled. 

"It shall be so." He stood up from the bed and swiftly disrobed, letting his garments fall where they would. On another night, Curufinwë would have cared -- he was always very conscientious about ensuring clothing was neatly folded and off the floor -- but tonight there was little he cared about less. 

It seemed both a long while and only a moment that they fussed over him, preparing him carefully, an oiled finger at first, then two. He slowly grew hard again under their attentions, and drifted in a peaceful, blissful haze all the while, eyes half open, making soft sounds from time to time. There was no pain at any point, and Fëanáro's skilled fingers seemed to know exactly how to touch him. 

At last their hands withdrew from his body, and Maitimo slid onto the bed behind Curufinwë, wrapping his arms around him and whispering softly in his ear, as Fëanáro entered him for the first time, pressing deep inside slowly and carefully with a look of utter bliss on his face. Curufinwë could feel him hard and hot, stretching him wide, touching something inside him that made sparks go off inside his mind with every thrust of his hips. 

The thrusts were gentle at first, and Fëanáro's face was a picture of concentration, teeth worrying his lower lip, eyebrows scrunched together. Curufinwë watched him, seeing him for the first time as a lover, rejoicing in the vulnerability of his face, the trust and love shining out of his eyes, and doing his best to answer it with his own. 

Maitimo, whose own erection was pressing into Curufinwë's back, reminding him that this night was only beginning, wrapped a hand around Curufinwë's erection and stroked him in time with their father's thrusts, whispering words that stoked the fires inside of him to roaring flame, speaking of dreams shared and all the delights of the future that awaited him. 

"Harder," Curufinwë said at last, and Fëanáro complied, ceasing to hold back, and thrusting into him with passionate ardour. He bent forward and kissed Curufinwë, a kiss aflame with need, a kiss that delved into the very heart of him and sent him flying toward the stars. All the while the motion of his hips never stopped, fierce as a hammer on an anvil. Curufinwë, surrounded on all sides by heated love, gave himself up to bliss for the second time that night, feeling his father shudder to a halt and come inside him, the look on his face overwhelmed and full of devotion. 

After a moment, Fëanáro pulled out of him, seed dripping from him, and Curufinwë would have protested the loss, but Maitimo was there to push inside almost immediately afterwards, still holding him in his arms. He thrust up from below, hips working hard from the start, seated on the bed like it was a throne, Curufinwë draped over him, facing outward. Maitimo's hand was wrapped loosely around Curufinwë's spent cock, holding him close as he fucked him. 

Once Fëanáro recovered his breath, he stood, then kissed Curufinwë's forehead. "Are you ready for the rest of them, my beloved?" he asked. 

Curufinwë gave him a bright smile. "More than ready."

Turcafinwë was the next one to slip into the room. Clad only in a light robe, he kissed Curufinwë, and then settled down onto the bed to watch Maitimo fuck him. 

Maitimo always prolonged his own pleasure where he could, and Curufinwë drifted again in a pleasant haze as his brother fucked him, rising and falling with each steady thrust of his hips. Outside the room, he could hear the faint echo of a harp being played by Macalaurë, the cool notes falling in counterpoint to each movement of Maitimo's hips. The delightful realisation that of course Cáno knew everything that was going on in Curufinwë's bedroom lent an air of anticipation to the song, as if Macalaurë was dreaming of the near future when he would be the one fucking his little brother. 

Next to him, Turcafinwë lay, from time to time stroking a hand across the expanse of Curufinwë's chest and belly, or sliding down between his thighs to touch the place where Maitimo was joined to him. 

"I can hardly wait," he breathed, silver hair spilling into his face as he gazed up at Curufinwë's splayed limbs and relaxed body. "I'm going to take you as soon as Maitimo's done." 

Curufinwë brushed the back of his hand across Turcafinwë's cheek. "Please. I want you to." 

He was almost fully hard again when Maitimo came inside him with a long drawn-out groan, and then slid slowly out of him. Curufinwë pressed a kiss to Maitimo's mouth as Maitimo whispered a blissful, "Well done, little one," to him, and turned to Turcafinwë. 

Turcafinwë did not believe in slow, was no fan of prolonging anything, and was clearly vibrating on the edge of need for Curufinwë. Once he had gathered his little brother into his arms, laying him down on his back in the bed and pressing straight into him, Turcafinwë took him hard and fast. Curufinwë lifted his head and captured Turcafinwë's mouth with his own, rediscovering the wonder of his lips. He pressed back into his brother's thrusts, reluctant to be even partially separated from him. 

Maitimo, after a little while, hopped off the bed, and then returned with Carnistir and Macalaurë in tow. Fëanáro had moved into a large chair next to the bed, and reached out to tug Macalaurë down into the chair with him, while Carnistir climbed onto the bed, shedding his garments as he went. The rug was now covered with clothing in various sizes and shades, but Curufinwë did not even notice. 

Caught up in sensation, nearly overwhelmed by it, his third orgasm took him almost by surprise, and a moment later Turcafinwë came inside him, teeth at his shoulder, marking him vibrantly. Carnistir, even more impatient than his brother, pushed into him as Turcafinwë pulled out, dragging him onto his lap. 

Fëanáro and Macalaurë, in the nearby chair, were wrapped around each other, Macalaurë sucking one of Fëanáro's nipples avidly, and rolling the other between his fingers. Maitimo pulled Turcafinwë into his arms, and the two kissed lazily, content to relax together for the moment. 

Carnistir's harsh breaths filled Curufinwë's ears, and he pressed his face against his brother's shoulder, for the first time daring to use his teeth on one of his brothers. It was no secret in the house that Moryo got off on pain, so Curufinwë did not spare him but bit down hard. He was rewarded with a sudden jolt of sensation, and Carnistir fucked him harder. It wasn't long until he came, pressing Curufinwë down into the bed and giving it to him as hard as Curufinwë had ever craved in his dreams.

Macalaurë, on the other hand, took his time. He was the last, and Curufinwë got the impression that he wanted it that way. Rather than skipping straight to the main course, Macalaurë toyed with him, pressing tiny kisses and bites to his throat, chest, and belly, never hard enough to hurt much, more just sparks of sensation in Curufinwë's overstimulated state. At last he bent and took Curufinwë's erection in his mouth, bringing him back to full hardness before letting him go.

"You're going to come one more time tonight," he said, and Curufinwë shivered with delight at the quiet confidence in his voice. Then Macalaurë dipped his head again, licking up the leaking seed that was spilling from him, try as he might to keep it inside. 

It was a long while before Macalaurë decided it was time to fuck him, and the silver light through the windows was beginning to show the faintest hint of gold. The light, mingled with the light from the lamp, caught in Macalaurë's inky black hair and turned it bluish, and Curufinwë lifted himself up onto his elbows as Macalaurë pressed into him, so that his brother could wrap his arms around him. 

Pressed close together, Macalaurë rocked against Curufinwë slow and gentle, his hips moving in a steady, measured, pace, like the beat of a drum. Curufinwë was beginning to feel a little sore, but the pain was transmuting to pleasure under Macalaurë's tenderness, following the relative roughness of Carnistir and Turcafinwë. Macalaurë slipped a hand between their bodies and stroked him with long, firm strokes, until with a final rising wave of pleasure he came once more, his body tensing and then releasing around Macalaurë's cock. 

Macalaurë gasped once and spilled into him for what seemed an eternity. When he pulled out, he bent down again, and licked the mingled seed from Curufinwë's dripping hole and thighs. "We taste wonderful on you," he said, and curled up against Curufinwë, every now and then giving him another lick. 

All around him were drowsy murmurs. Turcafinwë and Maitimo dozed in each other's arms, Carnistir was kneeling between Fëanáro's legs, alternating between sucking at his half-hard cock and just keeping it warm in his mouth, and behind him, Macalaurë roused every now and again to whisper some endearment or press a kiss to his tender hole. 

Curufinwë had never felt less like falling asleep in his life. He looked up at his father, who smiled indulgently back at him, and for the first time since his body had awakened to desire, was fully content.


End file.
